Cavorting With Curses
by Sehanine
Summary: The solution to the Defense Against the Dark Arts curse was staring Albus in the face the entire time.


Written for the QLFC round 8

Team: Pride of Portree

Position: Seeker

Word Count (excluding AN): 1074

* * *

"Lockhart? Gilderoy Lockhart? Albus, you can't be serious!" Minerva's eyes were blazing as she considered the implications of this new appointment.

"Minerva, I understand that he was a rather… unusual student-"

"Unusual? I believe the word you're looking for is 'incompetent'." Minerva began to pace, gesticulating wildly, at risk of knocking over some of the strange trinkets Albus stored on his desk. "He failed everything! He got a T in Defense, have you forgotten that? Oh yes, he's clearly had some success with those little books of his, but has anyone actually checked to see if they are factually accurate?"

"I-"

"No, of course they haven't! Because he's handsome and personable, and that sells books. Nobody is interested in whether or not he has done any of the things he claims to have done."

"Minerva-"

"And if you were to actually look at the books, you would see that it is impossible for one man to have achieved all those feats! His defeats of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf and the Bandon Banshee would have had to have happened simultaneously, on different sides of the Earth!"

"You see-"

"And of course, even with Portkeys and Time Turners, which are highly restricted, mind you, it would be impossible to pull that off." Minerva slumped into a plush purple armchair, exhausted by her rant. "Albus, how could you do that to our students?"

"Minerva, if you will just allow me to speak," Minerva inclined her head slightly. "We have long suspected that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed. After the events of last year, I have been somewhat reluctant to hire anybody. Our last professor, as I'm sure you remember, ended up possessed by Lord Voldemort and then burnt to a crisp."

Minerva flinched at the casual mention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Albus, surely there would be someone more suited to the position who would be willing despite the curse? Someone who could actually teach the students? Why, Severus has applied year after year; don't tell me he's finally stopped after all this time."

"Yes, Severus did apply," Albus conceded. "However, with the resurgence of Lord Voldemort I do not wish to risk losing someone who could be vital to bringing about his downfall. Gilderoy was informed of the risk he would be taking and has assured me that no curse could possibly defeat him. He says that he will have found the source of the curse within days, if not hours, of arriving, and all our problems will, in his words, float away like a leaf on a stream."

Minerva tried to hide her smile. Gilderoy had always been rather flamboyant with his language; she had plenty of memories of reprimanding him for it in his essays as a boy.

"Albus, surely you don't believe he is capable of such a thing?"

"No, I do not. However, I see no reason to not allow him to try. Sometimes great minds like ours cannot fathom things that are more simple than we are used to. Sometimes, overthinking is the problem, not the solution. If, as we suspect, he does not solve the issue, he will at least be able to follow the lesson plans I have asked Severus to draft for his use."

* * *

Gilderoy strode into the castle the day before the start of term. He planned to settle himself within his quarters, throw out the lesson plans the headmaster had informed him would be waiting on his desk, and head down to the Great Hall for a glass of something strong and a willing audience for his many tales.

Looking around, Gilderoy couldn't help but feel like he was returning home after a long and arduous journey. Hogwarts would always be special to it's students, but particularly to Muggle-borns like himself, who remembered the castle fondly as their first real introduction to the world of wonder and whimsy that they were a part of.

Upon entering the Defense classroom, Gilderoy's feelings of comfort and welcome began to fade. "Well, that is odd," he thought to himself, glancing around the room. Nothing had changed about it since his time as a student, and yet it felt somehow wrong to him. Shrugging off the sensation, he continued on through the room to his quarters, which were connected by a door behind the desk.

Closing the door behind him, Gilderoy shuddered. This room felt even more off than the classroom before it. "Perhaps this is the curse the headmaster mentioned," Gilderoy mused as he walked across to the luggage that the house elves had left for him. Oddly, the other side of the room felt even more unwelcoming, drastically so.

Determined to find the source of his discomfort, Gilderoy began to poke around the room. What he found confused him. The bed seemed to be oozing with feelings of unease. "Perhaps someone has charmed it as a practical joke? Some sort of hazing ritual?" Gilderoy guessed aloud. "I'll speak with the headmaster about it."

* * *

That evening in the Great Hall, Gilderoy shared his discovery with Albus with a grin, expecting the elder wizard to laugh and suggest that it was some kind of joke. Instead, Albus grimly suggested that he take a look at it.

Back in Gilderoy's quarters, Albus began casting a variety of complex diagnostic spells on the bed.

"It would appear," Albus explained, turning to Gilderoy. "That you have found the source of our curse. One of the wooden slats in the bedframe has been cursed to subtly convince our professors that they are unwelcome here."

"Subtle?" Gilderoy asked, astonished. "Why, I could clearly feel it from outside the room!"

"Perhaps there is something different about you, my boy," Albus suggested, removing and vanishing the offending piece of wood before repairing the bed. "Something that Voldemort would not have considered when placing the curse. I suspect his views on blood purity clouded his mind; he never would have considered a Muggle-born being employed by Hogwarts. The feeling of 'home' that Hogwarts holds for Muggle-borns is greater than it is for Pure-bloods who grew up in a magical environment. The curse feels stronger to you purely because it is negating more for you than it has for anyone else who has previously stepped into this room."

Gilderoy smiled. "Of course, Headmaster, it could equally be that I am simply a stronger wizard than he is."

Albus simply smirked to himself. "That is also possible, I suppose."


End file.
